


and we're halfway there

by foggys



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, I'm very sorry, that's all there is to it, they're all in a school production of West Side story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-02-26 23:44:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2670809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys/pseuds/foggys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Come on, Santiago,” Peralta whines, speeding up next to her, “you can’t still be mad. It was like last year.”</p>
<p>Amy levels a glare at him but doesn’t stop moving. “You put an unwrapped bagel  with cream cheese and a bag of nuts in my costume bag after fittings and left it there for an entire week. My costumes smelled like mold and pistachios for all of tech week.”</p>
<p>or, the one where they're in a school production of West Side Story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First foray into Brooklyn Nine-Nine fanfiction!
> 
> I am so very sorry about this.

When she sees the audition posters for West Side Story, Amy is ecstatic. Not only is it a wonderful musical (Bernstein! Sondheim! the choreography!), it’s amazing representation of her heritage. It’s also based on Romeo and Juliet, and even though she thinks the play is overrated and overused, she loves Shakespeare and this interpretation is incredible anyway.

Amy is a senior this year and has been doing the school musical since freshman year, so she’s positive that she’ll get a lead, or at the very least an important supporting role. Obviously she wants Maria, the epitome of innocence and optimism and courage. She just wants to play this last big part before she has to go to college and leave musical theater. The only impediment: technically she’s a mezzo, but her vocal range is wide and leans toward higher notes, and come on, she could totally pull off Maria. Amy supposes she wouldn’t be unhappy with Anita either, but there is just so much dancing involved and, as much as she absolutely loathes to admit it, if there’s one thing Amy Santiago can’t do, it’s dancing.

If there’s one thing Amy can do, it’s making plans. She needs to be prepared for Maria. Who’d play all the other parts? Will she be compatible with them?

Anita…Rosa Diaz. That’s a given. Rosa has the looks, the voice, and the flair. Sometimes. Yes, Rosa is definitely going to be Anita. Amy’s worked with her before, in RENT their sophomore year; she’s fairly certain she can stand her again. Bernardo, Maria’s brother? There are a few who come to mind: Stephen Yen, Terry Jeffords, Simon Rodriguez. She doesn’t know any of them well, but they seem like nice enough people.

Amy stops ogling the West Side Story poster and grabs an audition packet. Riff? Hm, not many possibilities, especially among the upperclassmen who did musical theater. Doesn’t matter, there aren’t many scenes between Maria and Riff.

And what about Tony, Maria’s love interest? If she wants Maria, Amy is going to have to be more than compatible with him. He’ll need to be a good singer, actor, and dancer. Besides, they’ll need to have good chemistry and make the romance believable. Charles Boyle? No, he just doesn’t quite...fit, and she wouldn’t be able to muster up the romance part with him. Amy glances through the titles on the pages of the packet to find the character description. Who else?

Oh no.

Jake Peralta?

No. Amy cannot work with him. Refuses to work with this puerile, immature nuisance, much less as her love interest.

Before she panics, she reminds herself that they haven’t even done auditions. Maybe Peralta isn’t even doing the musical this year. Probably too busy flunking out of high school.

Amy finds the character description page, but then her eyes land on a miracle.

“Director: Ray Holt.”

Holt is directing the musical this year?

Holt is, hands down, the most intimidating teacher at the school. He teaches AP English and Advanced Acting, both of which Amy is taking this year. His reputation as a terrific actor but terrifying teacher has driven most students away from his classes, but Amy has been completely, totally impressed with him since sophomore year. She took pains to make sure she landed in his classes. And he’s directing West Side Story?

This is going to be the best musical ever.

 

~

 

Amy is walking up to the school when her phone starts blaring. She yanks it from her pocket, the vibrations causing it to slip out of her hand, and she just manages to catch it before it hits the ground. Without looking at the screen, she swipes and cuts off “America” (she didn’t want to be too hopeful about Maria after all). “Hello, Amy Santiago speaking.”

“Okay, you need to stop answering the phone like an overeager thirty-five-year-old assistant manager of a large, boring, insurance-selling capitalist corporation,” says Gina, a junior whom Amy had befriended last musical. “But whatever. Because guess what day it is? IT’S CAST LIST DAY!”

Amy flinches at the crackle of Gina’s nasal drawl over her bad speakers. “Yes, I know, I’m coming up right now, just in time to watch it get posted.”

“It’s already been posted. You got—”

“Wait, what?” Amy pulls her phone away from her ear to check the time. “It’s 1:54 and they said 2:00!”

"Yeah, well, they posted it, sorry you couldn’t see it happen, too bad, whatever. So I’m Consuelo, like I hoped. And you’re Maria.”

It takes a second for Amy to process that, and while her heart thuds when she realizes that she made it, she’s also irritated. “Gina, I explicitly told you not to tell me which part I got or which parts anyone else got, and I’d really appreciate if you didn’t tell me any more.” She quickens her strides.

“—Rosa got Anita, obviously, and—”

“Okay, that’s it, Gina, I am hanging up right now,” Amy says, and punches the screen.

But...Maria! Amy barely has time to smile before her phone buzzes again, this time with a text message.

Not looking at it, she decides, and clutches her phone tightly. Then it buzzes again. And again. And again.

Amy can practically feel the burning heat of the unread messages in her hand before she growls and opens them. Terry Jeffords is Bernardo, just like she expected. Her junior friend Kylie is Rosalia. Charles Boyle is Officer Krupke. Amy keeps reading, sifting through her mental list of cast members left. There aren’t very many guys, she notes, and Gina hasn’t told her who Tony is. So—

No.

Nonononononononononononono.

Amy is only two blocks away from the school and starts jogging. She has to verify that this is not going to happen. She cannot possibly be paired with—

“SANTIAGOOOOOOO!”

— Jake Peralta.

Amy grits her teeth and turns. Jake is coming around the corner, grinning widely. “SANTIAGO!” he bellows again, even though he is less than fifteen feet away from her. “Are you going to see the cast list?”

“Where else would I be going?” she snaps.

Peralta ignores it and catches up to her. “Great! Let’s go! I’m so excited, I auditioned for Tony or Riff. Bet you got Maria, Santiago. You probably already know. Did you get Maria?"

Amy walks faster.

“Come on, Santiago,” Peralta whines, speeding up next to her, “you can’t still be mad. It was like last year.”

Amy levels a glare at him but doesn’t stop moving. “You put an unwrapped bagel  with cream cheese and a bag of nuts in my costume bag after fittings and left it there for an entire week. My costumes smelled like mold and pistachios for all of tech week.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I understand why you would be mad, but I didn’t mean for it to get moldy. Besides, we’re partners. Rusty and Willard, yeah?”

"No.”

“Fine. Be a party pooper.”

They reach the school in silence. Amy starts jogging toward the cast list. She needs to see it for herself. Is she really Maria?

Maybe Peralta isn’t Tony. Please, please, please...

And yes, nudging aside the freshmen cheerleaders crowding around the sheet, she sees… “Maria — Amy Santiago”.

But right above that…

“Tony — Jake Peralta”.

Behind her, Peralta whoops and grabs Amy’s bicep, spinning her around. “We’re Tony and Maria! Yay!” He waltzes — literally waltzes — away, still yelling.

“Yay,” Gina says, sliding up behind Amy and making her jump. “Tolja.”

Amy forces a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, I'm so sorry about not posting for four months. RL has been quite busy lately.
> 
> But now that it's April and I'm participating in Camp NaNoWriMo, you can expect a little bit more from this fic. Hopefully.

Amy arrives quite early for the first rehearsal, of course, intending to be the first one there. She’s beaten by Charles Boyle, who stands eagerly in the doorway.

“Top of the mornin’ to ya, Miss Santiago,” he says, bowing low and sweeping his arm as she enters the dance studio. Amy pointedly glances at the clock on the wall. “Afternoon,” he corrects.

She takes a look around the room. “Where’s Mr. Holt?” She and Charles are alone in the huge, empty studio. There aren’t even backpacks against the wall.

“He was here a couple minutes ago,” Charles supplies. “Went to get a TV. I’m surprised they still haven’t installed a projector in here. It’s almost like the school board doesn’t care about art!”

If she didn’t have to get her calc textbook, she could be helping Mr. Holt! Damn her stupid bottom locker. Ugh.

Amy leans her backpack against the wall, taking out her leather practice shoes and starting to put them on. Charles continues to ramble. “Wow, I am so excited! I’m Officer Krupke. I’m ending my high school musical career with a bang! Man, it feels great!” He bounces a little on the balls of his feet. “Amy, I would like to offer my congratulations for your role as Maria.” He starts to give her a short burst of enthusiastic applause, but his face changes and his voice rises an octave. Looking toward the doorway, he lets out a loud squawk. “Rosa!”

“Boyle. Santiago,” Rosa says, expressionless as always. She throws her black messenger bag at the wall and reinserts her earbud.

_Ah, Rosa_ , Amy thinks. She and Rosa got pretty close last year. Amy is so excited to develop that bond with her. She holds her hand out for a high-five. Who says a high-achieving, somewhat socially-stunted student like Amy can’t be friends with a mysterious badass rebel like Rosa?

Rosa ignores her hand as she walks past.

...Okay, so apparently social hierarchy is still a thing. Amy makes a resolution to get super close with Rosa by the end of the show. Crack her open like a...nutcracker. She didn’t take that psychology summer course for nothing.

A couple of freshmen girls shuffle into the doorway timidly, and Charles beelines toward them, shouting greetings and introductions. Amy knots her shoelaces tightly, lines her normal shoes neatly next to her backpack, and makes her way to the side wall to start warming up on the barre. She starts the first set of exercises, hips turned out, right foot pointed, body aligned. She sinks into the dull ache of stretches, breathing in and out.

“Hello, Santiago, Diaz, Boyle, girls,” says a familiar, deep voice from across the room. Amy startles while trying to spin around. Her foot slips off the barre and smacks painfully into the floor.

“Mr. Holt!” she squeals. He’s maneuvering a tall TV cart around a shelf of performing arts brochures. In two and a half seconds, Amy has half-run, half- _grand-jete_ -d across the room, taking hold of the cart from the other side. They position it in the front of the room, and Amy bends down to plug it into the wall socket.

“Thank you, Miss Santiago,” Holt says.

“What are we thanking Santiago for?” Peralta yells from across the room, apparently having arrived on time. A rarity, truly.

Amy straightens up so fast she bangs her hand into the mirror. She massages her hand behind her back while looking at Holt. It’s going to bruise, _ow_. “Anytime, sir. I’d be more than happy to help you whenever you want. Need. Anytime at all, even when we’re not in rehearsal. Or when we’re not in session at school. You know, if you need an extra hand to help you, um, carry your groceries or mow your lawn or babysit your nephew, I’ll be right here!” She gives him a panicked smile and two thumbs up.

“I will not be requiring that sort of help,” Holt says. Oh no, he’s using his serious voice...which, to be perfectly honest, is not very different from his usual voice. A tad slower, maybe? Amy’s planning to investigate the nuances of all his different tones over Thanksgiving break.

“Of course not, sir,” she says.

“But thank you nonetheless.”

“Of course, sir.” She about-turns quickly and heads off toward the barre again.

“Only took you two minutes to make Holt think you’re a freaky weirdo,” says Peralta, appearing beside her. Stretching with her leg on the barre, she scoots a foot away from him and scowls down toward the ground. “This is going to be a very entertaining semester, I can already tell.”

There’s a streak of black low on the wall. Someone probably hit their shoe when they were trying to turn. She’s totally signing up for studio clean-up later, just to clean that spot up. And also the stupid smudges on the mirror. What fool put their hand on the mirror?

“You need to turn-out at the hip, not the knee, Santiago,” Peralta declares.

There is suddenly the pressure of fingers around her right thigh. She jerks, pulling away from his hand. “Peralta, what do you want?”

“To correct your turn-out so you don’t hurt yourself and mess up our Tony-Maria scenes? Better dancers than you have hurt themselves turning out incorrectly. Myself included.”

Amy does recall images of Peralta in a knee brace and crutches, but dancing was totally not the reason why. “You hurt yourself during the ski trip in freshman year.”

“And it could have been prevented by turning out! If I had turned out with my hips and not my knees, I wouldn’t have torn my ACL. I still have scars from the reconstructive surgery, wanna see?”

“Ew, no!” She backs away, pulling a disgusted face. “Don’t be like Hitchcock and Scully.”

“Don’t even compare me to them. Nothing will compare to Hitchcock and Scully. My ACL scar doesn’t compare to the mental scars they left,” Peralta says.

They both wince as they remember the two theater alumni who worked as stagehands last year.

“Anyway, what was my point?” Peralta wonders. “Oh yeah — turn out to save your life! Peralta’s life lesson of the day! Yeah!” He pumps his arms in the air and does a little victory dance.

“Whoo-hoo, go Jakey!” Charles Boyle says, passing by. Peralta smacks his outstretched hand loudly. Amy rolls her eyes and continues to stretch. She turns out a little. Hopefully Peralta won’t notice.

“I don’t even know why you’re stretching,” Peralta says once he and Charles are done hip-bumping. “Ten bucks say we’re not even starting choreography today.”

“We’re not supposed to bet at school. It’s against the rules,” Amy says automatically.

“It’s after school now, we’re out of school.”

“We’re still on school property.” She switches legs on the barre.

“You’re just chicken because you know Jake is always right, am I right Charles? Which I should be because I’m always right so that makes it a rhetorical question! I win!” Peralta slaps hands with Charles again.

Amy isn't really looking forward to these rehearsals as much anymore.

 

~

 

“And once again, I thank you for auditioning for _West Side Story_ and I look forward to working with you all.”

Amy and Charles burst out into enthusiastic applause. “Go Director Holt!” she cheers.

“I have not yet finished,” Holt says.

“Totally the title of his sex tape,” Peralta whispers from behind her. Amy reaches her arm back and pinches him.

“Due to popular demand, I will be playing the 1961 movie _West Side Story_. Many of you may have seen it before, but this time I expect you to take note of your character, whether you are a lead or an ensemble member. I want you to learn how your characters act, move, and dance.

“One additional thing: Those of you in my class will know that I take rehearsals very seriously. Anyone who does not will be penalized. Thank you.”

Charles audibly gulps. Amy hears him whisper to Peralta, “Jake, I know I’m your best friend and all, but I’m gonna need you to refrain from involving me in your wonderful but potentially risky plans. This is my senior year and I have a starring role! I can’t afford to let him take it away!”

In the front of the room, Holt is opening the DVD case, and Amy leaps up to help him. Peralta grabs her ankle.

“Peralta, what now?” she growls.

“All your stretching was for naught. I told you we weren’t doing choreography today. Jake always wins, Amy loses! So there.” He releases her ankle and pats her shoe. “Okay, go be teacher’s pet, bye.”

Amy kicks him in the hand as she walks up, ignoring his yelp of pain and her feeling of guilt. (She can’t help it, you know.)

“Hello again, Ms. Santiago,” Holt says when she gets to him. “I am capable of setting up a DVD by myself, although I do appreciate your eagerness to help.”

“Yes, of course. Anytime. I love to help! I love work!” Amy babbles. “Oh no, that sounded sarcastic, didn't it?”

“Not at all, Ms. Santiago.”

“Oh okay, good. Um, yeah, if you need me I’ll be right here—”

“Noted.” Holt presses play on the DVD player and straightens, satisfied. “Also, please refrain from kicking or enacting any sort of violence against Mr. Peralta. He is, I’m sure you're aware, going to play Tony, your character’s love interest in _West Side Story_.”

“What? No! He was the one who started—”

She looks into Holt’s completely serious face and decides that this is not a good idea.

“Um, yes, sir, of course, I do apologize—”

“Just make sure it does not happen again in the future. I expect you two to work together and set an example to the rest of the cast.”

“Yes sir.” She feels anxiety coiling in her stomach. What if she gets penalized for something dumb Peralta does?

Then Holt _looks_ at her. Amy flees.

 

~

 

Amy has a blissful forty-five minutes without Peralta as she sits in the middle of the room, engrossed in the movie and taking copious notes for Maria. Peralta is slouched against the back wall, probably fiddling with his phone or something equally unproductive. Then in the middle of the “One Hand, One Heart” scene, he scoots up and pokes her repeatedly in the shoulder until she looks up.

“Holt said to ‘take note of your character,’ not literally ‘take notes,’” he whispers loudly.

“I like to study,” Amy hisses back. She scribbles some more notes — _“now it begins” - Maria looks toward Tony lovingly_ — and turns her back to Peralta.

But he still sticks his head over her shoulder. “‘Lovingly’? You have to look at me lovingly?”

She feels really defensive for no reason. “Yes, Peralta. Maria and Tony are in love and this is their wedding scene. Of course they look at each other lovingly.”

“Me, the coolest guy at this school, look at you, the valedictorian-bound nerdy theater kid, _lovingly_? Yeah, no, not gonna happen. I have to maintain my reputation.”

“It’s theater, Peralta, you signed up for it so suck it up,” she growls. And even though she totally hates him, she feels a little bit hurt.

“‘You signed up for it so suck it up,’ title of your sextape!”

She smacks him in the chest just a bit too hard.

“Hey, there’s a bruise on the back of your hand,” he says, grabbing her wrist as she’s lowering it. He pulls her hand close to examine the purpling lump.

“I know.”

His hands are warmer than she would’ve expected, but not sweaty. Amy hates sweaty hands. At least now she knows it won’t be gross to hold hands with him onstage.

There’s a bit of a silence. Amy scribbles more notes. Peralta scratches his head.

“I’m gonna go back now,” Peralta eventually says, “because you’re a dork who sits somewhere without a backrest. I mean, who does that? Okay, anyway, bye.” He scoots back to Charles.

Good riddance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too dialogue-heavy? I thought so too.


End file.
